


Clear Skies and Tailwinds

by Vicki_88



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Inception Reverse Big Bang Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8593741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vicki_88/pseuds/Vicki_88
Summary: Ariadne is a Federal Air Marshal. This is her story of love, life, friendship and heartbreak, and a job at 35,000 feet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Inception Big Bang Challenge, and inspired by this wonderful piece of art by Kaminagi http://imgur.com/SihBQP3?r 
> 
> Clear Skies and Tailwinds is an aviation phrase sometimes said between pilots that basically means 'hope you have a good journey'. Pilots want clear skies for unlimited visibility and tailwinds - winds blowing in the direction of travel of the aircraft to increase speed. I am a fan of aviation and I love travelling, but I know nothing about the Federal Air Marshal Service, everything in this story has been taken from information found online and a little bit of creative license. 
> 
> And to my wonderful, wonderful beta consultingreaders, endless thank you's and parades held in your honour! Without you this story would be set in the US but written in British, be bereft of commas, and wouldn't make sense to anyone that didn't live in my head. Thank you so much for all the work you have put into crafting what this story has become.

_“Following 9/11, on September 20th before a Joint Session of Congress, President Bush addresses the nation to introduce a new department of Homeland Security, and with it a major overhaul of aviation security. Within one month newly created transport security administration began to hire, train and deploy six hundred air marshals. Training the newly hired Federal Air Marshals, referred to as FAMs, was a major undertaking. Firearms training requires that they be in the top percent of shooters, and recruits are trained in aircraft simulators made to scale.The Supervisory Air Marshal says ‘they are always taught to search suspicious behaviour that might lead to an actual threat. You look at how long someone’s been out of their seat, or whether someone ate dinner or didn’t eat dinner, whether they’re sleeping or not sleeping, you notice every nuance in the aircraft.’”_ _([TSA, Inside Look: Federal Air Marshal Service](https://www.tsa.gov/file/inside-look-federal-air-marshal-service))_

 

_January 2003_

 

As the Boeing 757-200 began its descent into San Diego International Airport, Ariadne pressed her face up again the window, eager for a first glimpse of the city she’d be living in for at least the next few years.

The earliest direct flight from JFK meant she was landing at 11 a.m. and scheduled to be in the office by 1 p.m. Depending on everyone’s departure locations, the 20 new recruits for the San Diego office would be arriving between 9 a.m. and 2 p.m. Being one of those who had to travel the furthest distance, Ariadne would be among the last to arrive, along with the two other new FAMs on the plane. One of them, Robert Fisher, she knew from her phase one of training in New Mexico, and the other, Thomas Browning, she had met for the first time at the airport.

The weight of her Sig Sauer P229 pistol clipped to her belt buckle still felt heavy and new; although she had been required to wear one during training, the month gap between graduation and being assigned an office had given her body time to get re-used to its lack of presence.

She looked over to where Robert was seated a few rows behind her and they exchanged small, pleased smiles. Today was the start of her new life.

 

*

 

After they collected their luggage, a blue van with government plates met Ariadne, Robert, and Thomas at arrivals, and they made the short trip over to the office.

The San Diego regional office of the Transport Security Administration was located on Columbia Street between W Beech St and W Ash St, and conveniently only two blocks away from the San Diego Passport Agency. Apparently the office had originally been set up in Murrieta, a good hour and a half drive, but after the budget increase post 9/11 and higher demand for internationally flying FAMs, the office relocated.

When they arrived, they were directed to the boardroom where the other arrivals were seated, and told their bags would be delivered to their hotel rooms where they were being put up for one week before moving into their own accommodation.

“Hi everyone, now that we’re all here it’s time for introductions.” A light haired man in his mid-thirties stood at the head of the table. “My name is Dominic Cobb and I am the Assistant Special Agent in Charge. I’ll be your main point of contact while you’re here. Any problems or questions please come and see me. Above me is my boss the Special Agent in Charge, Maurice Phillips, and also making up the team is your OPS, Operations Officer, Arthur Powell, both of whom you’ll meet later in the week. Now, if you could all go around the room and tell us your name and a little bit about yourself.”

“Hi, my name’s Robert Fisher. I signed up for training after 9/11 and before that spent four years as a firefighter in Chicago.”

As everyone went around the room, most of the stories were the same: signed up after 9/11, most with a background in emergency services, police, or military. The four-month training ran twice a year from February to May, and then again in July to October. After 9/11 the February slot the following year booked up within weeks. Ariadne had submitted her application in December and, after several weeks of interviews, had been accepted into the July training slot. Since the terrorist attack, the Federal Air Marshal Service had increased from thirty-three flying FAMs to over six hundred, and it had taken admin until nearly the end of November to assign locations to all graduates. Ariadne had passed her time at home practicing at the gun range and ensuring she kept up her fitness.

“My name’s Ariadne Bartlett. I have a Masters in Psychology from Stanford. I started my PhD specialising in Cognitive Behavior but dropped out after 9/11. Like most of you, I wanted to help make a difference.”

“Well now that we’ve all introduced ourselves,” Dominic Cobb said, “I’d like you to split up into groups of five and go around the city and try and answer as many of these questions as you can.” He passed around a sheet of paper to everyone, the front side with a list of questions and pictures of buildings on the reverse. “They are simple questions about the city; just answer as many as you can and drop the answers in the letterbox in the lobby before 6 p.m. with your names on the front of the envelope.”

Everyone started moving their chairs to get into groups; once all settled, Cobb passed around two more sheets of paper to everyone.

“This contains all the information you need for this week. Tomorrow you have all been allocated slots to go to the airport to apply for your SIDA badge. That’s your security information badge that will allow you to bypass certain security checkpoints. You need this before you can be assigned any mission flights. On Wednesday you’ve all also been given appointment times with Arthur in OPS. You will review your cover story with Arthur, and he will begin to build up a roster of mission flights. Everyone starts out on domestic flights, and after six weeks we’ll start rotating in international flights.” He paused and smiled at them. “All right, unless there any any questions, you are dismissed. I’ll see you all on Wednesday.”

 

*

 

Ariadne’s team was made up of Thomas, a shy man named Ryan Hayward, and the only two other women: Katie and Mal. Katie was a former police officer from Miami, and Mal had spent the past few years interning in the Paris office under her father, Stephen Miles, the Deputy Special Agent in Charge.

Though initially shy, Ryan turned out to be incredibly competitive and a great asset to have on the team, and Ariadne enjoyed getting to spend more time with Thomas. Katie and Mal she already knew.

In the month gap between being assigned to San Diego at the end of November and her start date first week of January, the agency had emailed everyone with a complete list of graduates’ names and assignment locations. It was up to the new recruits to find accommodation after their first week, and they were encouraged to share apartments with other marshals. The next day, Ariadne had received an email from Mal suggesting herself, Ariadne and Katie look at places together, and two weeks later they had found somewhere.

Ariadne was glad to have her new roommates on her team, as it gave her more time to get to know them before they all began living together. After dropping their envelope off at the office, they walked the short four blocks over to the Doubletree Hilton on Front Street where they’d be staying for the next week. The agency put all the new recruits in hotel accommodation near the office for the first week to encourage everyone to get to know their new colleagues—colleagues who they’d soon have to trust with their lives. They met up with one of the other teams that was already at the bar and joined them for dinner and a couple of drinks before everyone headed up for an early night. 

Getting her SIDA badge the next day thankfully didn’t take long, so Ariadne spent a good three hours exploring the airport that would soon feel like a second home for her, checking out all the lounges, gates, and different routes to and from security. They’d all been given frequent flyer cards for the airlines they’d be travelling on, allowing them to board early and gain entrance to all the lounges without attracting suspicion.

She studied where the security cameras were and any blind spots where you wouldn’t be seen on camera. She chatted to staff at the food court, the receptionists at the welcome desks in the lounges, and then to the gate agents, getting to know those she’d see frequently, and finally late afternoon she sat down with a coffee and spent almost an hour watching the passengers: business travelers, families, friends, all travelling somewhere, and it was going to be her job to make sure they were safe.

 

*

 

At 10:30 a.m on Wednesday. Ariadne knocked on a door marked ‘ _Arthur Powell, OPS.’_

“Come in,” a sharp voice called from behind the door.

Arthur was...not what she had been expecting. She’d pictured someone older than her, with harsh features, unimpressed by the latest round of new FAMs. But Arthur was _attractive._ He was much younger than she’d imagined; in fact, he couldn’t be more than a few years older than herself, no more than thirty anyway. He had dark brown hair neatly slicked back, a light grey shirt with a dark tie, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

She’d always had a weakness for forearms.

Aware that she was still standing in the middle of the doorway staring like an idiot, Ariadne hurried to take her seat.

“Ariadne Bartlett,” Arthur started, pulling her file out of a larger folder. After her nod, he continued on. “My name is Arthur Powell. I am your OPS Officer. I organize the operations and scheduling of all the domestic and international mission flights and coordinate with the head office in Washington, DC.”

He looked up from his file to her face for the first time, and he paused for a moment. Long enough that she wondered if she was supposed to have said something in response.

She had just been figuring out something to reply when he continued on. “Have you decided on a cover story?”

“Yes,” she said, glad to have something to say. “I thought guest lecturer might work well, given my background.”

“I agree, I think you have enough knowledge in the field to answer any questions fellow passengers might ask, and this cover gives us a wide range of options for you for both domestic and international mission flights, and flexible departure times. Smart choice.”

She thought she detected the start of a smile on his face at that last comment.

“Thanks.”

“As I’ve mentioned to the others, I’m currently working on adding each of you onto some flights next week. Schedules are usually prepared about two weeks in advance, although sometimes last minute assignments may come up. We look at flights most likely to encounter risk or danger and assign marshals to those. For chosen domestic flights there are usually two FAMs, and four on international. For the first week, you will be assigned as a third on domestic flights just while you get used to everything; week two, you will be holding your own and your partners will rotate. Sometimes you’ll work with the same people frequently and others you won’t see for months at a time.”

“No problem.”

“We try and work everyone’s cover story into their trip schedules. For instance, your mission flights will be to or near by colleges; for others that have picked travel for business meetings, we’ll establish an ‘office headquarters’ and schedule a higher percentage of their flights to the ‘head office’ location and flight times that work for their cover.”

She nodded again.

“You should receive information on your first mission flight Friday afternoon. Do you have any questions?”

“Not at the moment. I think the questions are likely to happen next week once everything starts happening,” she admitted honestly.

“My office hours that are open for FAMs are posted in the lobby. If you have any questions, my door is open.”

“Thank you. It was nice to meet you; I look forward to working with you.” She stood up and held out her hand.

“You too.”

His hand was warm and soft against hers, and he seemed as reluctant to let go as she.

She had her hand on the door handle, about to leave when he stopped her.

“Wait, one moment.”

He grabbed a pen and business card and wrote something down on the back.

“This is my number,” he said, handing her the card. “If you think of any questions before your first mission, just give me a call.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“Don’t, er—,” he hesitated as if deciding how to end his sentence. “Don’t pass it around,” he finished.

Ariadne smiled and felt herself blush. “I won’t.”

“Right,” Arthur said straightening up, smoothing down his waistcoat and showing her out the door. “Goodbye, then.”

 

*

As soon as Ariadne had closed the door, Arthur sank down into his chair. _Fuck._

Arthur had been in a few intra-office relationships during his five years of working for TSA, but they had been casual and brief. He’d seen how quickly things could become complicated at work if the relationship ended badly, and to be honest had never met someone he liked enough to pursue something more serious.

But maybe that might change this year.

Ariadne had seemed smart, skilled, and beautiful. For the first time in a while he felt like he might have just met someone worth something more.

He opened up an email to Dom and started typing. He’d met Dom in middle school and they’d instantly formed a fast friendship. Initially it had been because both their dads were pilots, so they had a lot in common, but it quickly grew beyond that into a lifelong friendship.

 

Wed 1/9

To: domc@tsa.gov

From: arthurp@tsa.gov

Subject: Advice

What do you know about Ariadne Bartlett?

 

*

 

Ariadne’s first flight as an official Federal Air Marshal was a short 75 minute flight from San Diego to Phoenix. Her two accompanying colleagues would then continue on to Atlanta and then onwards internationally, while she would join two other marshals returning back to San Diego three hours later.

For the outward bound part of her first mission flight she would be working with Josh King, a polite man in his early 30’s with a rapidly receding hairline, and Oliver Martin, a forty-year-old veteran who had been a flying FAM since the ‘original 33’—the thirty-three active Air Marshals prior to 9/11.

She was told to dress the part of her cover and take carry-on luggage only, so Monday morning she put on a long sleeve cream blouse that she tucked into a grey knee length skirt. She wore plain black flat shoes and no jewellery except for earrings. The female agents had been advised that heels were acceptable for a cover but to remember that whatever they were wearing needed to work with them, not against them, in an emergency. Men were not allowed to wear regular ties due to risk of strangulation in event of any attacks, and only clip-ons were allowed.

Ariadne wore heels occasionally for special occasions, but she wasn't confident enough to run, fight, or tackle someone to the ground in them. And in any case, for an emergency that resulted in landing on water, heels had to be removed before using the emergency slide, and walking around barefoot just seemed unprofessional.

When they arrived at the airport, Oliver parked them in the employee parking lot, and they took the shuttle bus across to the terminal.

At the check-in desk, they showed their passports and their badges. Ariadne and Josh were seated in economy, and Oliver was in business.

“Don’t worry,” Oliver said to her, “once there’s just two of you, you’ll alternate between economy and business. You won’t be stuck in coach forever.”

Ariadne honestly hadn’t even given a second thought to sitting anywhere other than economy, but it was nice to know that when she was assigned longer flights she’d sometimes get the chance to stretch her legs.

“What happens next,” Oliver continued,” is that we split up. Some of us in the lounge and others by the check in gate. It’s good to get a look at the passengers while they’re waiting to board. For this trip I’ll be in the lounge, while you and Ryan check out the gate.”

Ariadne must have looked nervous because he added, “Ninety percent of this job is just monitoring passengers’ behavior. In most cases if any does happen it’d be a passenger on an Ambien and too many drinks.”

“Isn’t Ambien for helping with anxiety?”

“Yes, but you’d be surprised by those who don’t read the warning about mixing it with alcohol. It has the tendency to make them essentially sleepwalk. Don’t know who they are, where they are, or what they’re doing. People can get frightened and aggressive when that happens.”

“And what do we do?”

“Don’t get involved if you can. We want to remain undercover, and a drunken passenger could also be a diversion tactic. If they start getting violent or out of control, then step in.”

Ariadne nodded. “Okay.”

Oliver smiled. “Relax, take a deep breath. You’re trained for this, you’ll be great.”

“Thanks,” she said. His words felt reassuring after everything he had just told her.

Oliver left them, heading towards the lounge entrance, and Ariadne and Ryan found seats by the gate where passengers had started to congregate while waiting for boarding to be announced.

They seated themselves apart, and she kept her eyes sharp but casual as she swept her gaze over those around her. As she had hoped, she saw nothing suspicious; instead she saw families of harassed-looking parents and over-excited children, bored looking business travellers, and college students looking forward to a few days’ escape from classwork.

The flight was uneventful, but thankfully so. They boarded first and identified themselves to the flight crew, the Captain came out to meet them, and then everyone else began boarding.

Over the next few days, Ariadne met six other FAMs and worked with both Oliver and Ryan again on separate flights. Her mission flights took her to Seattle, Atlanta, New Orleans, and Orlando. Both the New Orleans and Orlando flights had the reputation amongst FAMs for being rowdy, with everyone excited and eager to start drinking and partying. There were a lot of people drinking, though no one got out of control, but she watched everyone carefully all the same.

The first few weeks were a rush of excitement and adrenaline. The only downside was that it took almost two weeks for her to see Arthur again.

The second time she met with Arthur, it was to discuss her foreign language skills. She was fluent in German and conversational in French, which helped her mission flights expand into non-English speaking countries. Languages wasn’t a subject she had particularly excelled at in school, but her older brother had met a Swiss woman on a business trip five years ago and since married and moved to Zurich. She’d been to Zurich several times to visit him and spent a few weeks exploring both the German and French speaking cities in Switzerland one summer, and her brother emailed her in German to make sure she kept up the practice.

The third time was a group meeting to organize mission flights for the Rugby World Cup. Big events with lots of visitors like international sporting events always required heightened security with extra FAMs on multiple flights. The fourth time was not an official meeting, but an accidentally-on-purpose meeting, after she just happened to drop some files on the floor outside his office and Arthur helped pick them up and invited her in for a catch-up.

She tried to work out if it was just her Arthur smiled at. If it was just her that he called to arrange meetings with. But every time she brought his name up, Katie and Mal smiled with knowing eyes and she quickly changed the subject.

 

*

 

_March 2003_

 

The first time there was an incident on a flight it happened to her. Specifically.

Ariadne was seated in an aisle seat towards the back of the plane in economy. It was a flight from London Heathrow to Vegas, so there were four of them on board; Robert in economy plus, someone in business and another in first.

She got up frequently to walk up and down the two aisles under the guise of doing stretches to keep an eye on the passengers. It was a busy flight, full of Brits headed to Vegas to celebrate birthdays and bachelor and bachelorette parties.  

Amongst the bachelor parties there was a group of seven in her section seated a few rows behind her, four taking up the middle row and three on the left hand side. Whenever she got up to stretch, at least one of them wolf whistled or called out. It was nothing she couldn’t handle, but she’d messaged Robert using their TSA In-Flight Communication System to keep an eye out and pass on to the flight attendants to let them know if things got out of hand in case she or Robert needed to get involved.

Three hours into the flight, the group were about five beers in each, but it was clear they’d been drinking before boarding the plane. The next time Ariadne got up to stretch, they were on beer number six and not far from getting themselves cut off. She walked past them on her way to the gallery, then felt one of them grab her ass.

She froze, turned around, and grabbed the wrist of the guy who had touched her.

“I suggest that you remove your hand and keep it to yourself.” She let his hand go and walked back to her seat. They made a few cat calls but seemed to calm down.

Half an hour later, she got up to finish the walk she had started earlier. As soon as she walked past, one of them grabbed her ass and the others started sniggering.

She grabbed his wrist tightly again. “If you don’t—” she began.

“Why do you have a gun?” one of the others in the group asked.

Her blazer had slipped forward and the bottom of her holster could be seen.

“Are you a cop?” another one chimed in.

“No, I’m not a cop,” Ariadne said, lowering her voice.

“Then why do you have a gun?” the first guy asked again. Other passengers were starting to look around now.

Ariadne kept her voice low. “I’m a Federal Air Marshal. Now if you could keep your cat calls and your hands to yourself then we won’t have a problem, will we?” She hoped the tone of her voice and that the fact they knew she was armed would mean they’d take her seriously and calm down.

That was not remotely what happened.

“What’s wrong with this flight? Is there a murderer on here?” one of them asked loudly, a slight panic to his voice now.

“Be quiet,” she hissed. “There is nothing wrong. It is just a routine check. We do this all the time.”

“What’s wrong with the plane?” a nearby passenger asked, having overheard the end of the conversation.

“Are you here to watch someone? Or guard someone? Is someone on this plane a prisoner?” someone else from a few rows ahead asked, standing up and moving into the aisle.

“As I said, there is nothing wrong. If you could all please just sit down. There’s nothing to worry about,” Ariadne said, trying to calm everyone.

Robert, having heard voices being raised, came through the curtain from economy plus. Ariadne stopped him with a look, not wanting to cause more panic. Unfortunately an older woman who had now been watching her intently saw the exchange between the two of them.

“Oh my god, something is wrong! There’s two of them, they know something’s up!”

Ariadne gave her hand a brief shake in dismissal at Robert, trying to get him to go back to his seat. The quicker and quieter this could be contained the better.

She walked up the aisle towards the woman, ready to talk to her, when she felt before she heard footsteps running up behind her.

Without thinking, she immediately bent her knees, dropping her weight and slamming her elbow back, striking the attacker’s stomach.

Panic broke out and absolute chaos ensued.  

One hour and two interviews later, she called Arthur.

“Ariadne? What’s wrong?”

“Hi, Arthur. Something happened on the flight—I’m fine,” she added, before he had the chance to interrupt. “We just need you to organize a flight back for us.” 

“Where are you?”

“Kangerlussuaq.”

 

*

 

Mon 3/31

From: araidneb@tsa.gov

To: arthurp@tsa.gov

Subject: Coffee

 

Enjoyed ‘coffee’ Friday night ;)

Ariadne

 

 

_858-455-7011 As did I. You free for dinner this week? Arthur_

_858-455-7011 Would prefer to keep anything we wouldn’t want intercepted by text if that’s okay. My computer is subjected to regular security checks and email monitoring for safety. Arthur_

_858-874-9630 No problem, glad you told me! I’m free Wednesday? 8.30? Ari_

_858-455-7011 Can’t wait. Arthur_

 

 

Wed 4/16

From: arthurp@tsa.gov

To: ariadneb@tsa.gov

Subject: EM-71 Employee Relationship Form

 

Ariadne,

Attached is the EM-71 form. I’ve made an appointment for us with HR next Tuesday if you can have it completed by then.

See you at 7 at Piatti.

Arthur

 

Mon 5/6

From: araidneb@tsa.gov

To: arthurp@tsa.gov

Subject: Phone

 

Sorry to email, but I can’t find my phone. Did I leave it at yours?

TO ANYBODY READING THIS WHO ISN’T NAMED ARTHUR, THE EM-71 FORM WAS APPROVED!

Ariadne

 

 

Thurs 5/30

From: mallorym@tsa.gov

To:arthurp@tsa.gov; robertf@tsa.gov;

CC: ariadneb@tsa.gov; katiew@tsa.gov;

Subject: Saturday

 

Tapas Saturday night? Drinks at ours at 7 then onto Café Sevilla around 9?

 

 

Thurs 5/30

From: athurp@tsa.gov

To:Mallorym@tsa.gov; robertf@tsa.gov;

CC: ariadneb@tsa.gov; katiew@tsa.gov;

Subject: RE: Saturday

 

How’s that report coming along, Mal?

Arthur

 

 

Thurs 5/30

From: mallorym@tsa.gov

To:arthurp@tsa.gov; robertf@tsa.gov;

CC: ariadneb@tsa.gov; katiew@tsa.gov;

Subject: RE:RE: Saturday

 

It’ll be finished by tomorrow, relax!

Mal

P.S. No work talk Saturday night!

 

 

_Wed 7/9_

_TSA Communication System_

_Login: ariadneb_

_Password: ********_

 

_Ariadne: Dom, any ideas for Arthur’s birthday next week? Need help!_

_Dom: Yes, this is what the highly secure in-flight communication system was developed for. Secret_ _plans for Arthur’s birthday._

_Ariadne: It wouldn’t surprise me._

_Dom: Very true._

 

Fri 7/26

From: arthurp@tsa.gov

To: ariadneb@tsa.gov

Subject: Napa

 

What about the first weekend in October?

Arthur

 

 

Fri 7/26

From: araidneb@tsa.gov

To: arthurp@tsa.gov

Subject: RE: Napa

 

Perfect :)

Ari

 

 

Tues 10/1

From: araidneb@tsa.gov

To: arthurp@tsa.gov

Subject: Halloween

 

Belle and Beast ;)

Kristoff and Anna

Doctor Who and Tardis

Homer and Marge Simpson

Fred and Wilma Flintstone

Joker and Harley Quinn

 

Wed 10/2

From: arthurp@tsa.gov

To: araidneb@tsa.gov

Subject: RE: Halloween

 

Belle and Beast ;)  – very funny

Kristoff and Anna – absolutely not

Homer and Marge Simpson – as above

Fred and Wilma Flintstone – as above

Doctor Who and Tardis – which Doctor?

Joker and Harley Quinn – if we do DC, I want to be Robin.

 

 

Mon 11/11

From: araidneb@tsa.gov

To: arthurp@tsa.gov

Subject: Thanksgiving

 

Our flight is delayed and Mal is pestering me for an answer. You joining us for Orphans’ Thanksgiving?

Ari

 

 

Mon 11/11

From: arthurp@tsa.gov

To: araidneb@tsa.gov

Subject: RE: Thanksgiving

 

And I said you need to decide whether we both stay or you come with me to Maine. I would much prefer the latter choice.  

Arthur

 

 

 

Thurs 12/5

From: araidneb@tsa.gov

To: arthurp@tsa.gov

Subject: Flight details

 

So I leave Zurich on the 27th at 9:50am and should arrive at JFK at 1pm same day (hooray for time zones working in our favor for once!). Our flight to Portland’s at 5pm, right? Looking forward to spending New Year’s with you!

As I know you’ll want to track my flight, flight number is LX 16 operated by Swiss Air  :)

Ari

P.S Tell your mom I’m bringing the book we talked about at Thanksgiving!

 

 

Mon 12/6

From: arthurp@tsa.gov

To: araidneb@tsa.gov

Subject: RE: Flight details

 

Can’t wait to see you.

Arthur

 

 

_*_

 

_February 2004_

 

“Arthur, have you seen my black bra?” Ariadne called from behind the bathroom door.

“On the back of the chair,” Arthur replied, fetching it off the desk chair and opening the bathroom door to pass it to her.

“Thanks. Honestly, I feel like I spend half my time here searching for my own clothes.”

“Well, I suppose I could make things easier for you and let you have a drawer or two, and then you could keep all your clothes here,” he said casually.

Ariadne walked out of the bathroom, buttoning her shirt up and smiling, and kissed Arthur’s returning smile. “I think I’ll need more than a drawer or two.”

Later that evening, after Ariadne had done a round trip to Dallas-Fort Worth, Arthur brought home paperwork from HR for them to update their EM-71 (Employee Relationship). It was actually all rather romantic. Arthur took paperwork and correct procedure very seriously.

Unfortunately this couldn’t be said for Mal. She had confided to Ariadne before the end of their first month on the job that she was sleeping with Dom Cobb. By now it was almost well known office gossip. What was also well known was that Dom had a wife and two kids.

 

*

 

The next night, Ariadne had planned to meet Katie and Mal for after work drinks. Their schedules didn’t often coincide, but they tried to make an effort every couple of weeks to meet up outside of work, although this didn’t always work out. Tonight, Katie’s return flight had been delayed an hour, so Ariadne and Mal had started without her.

“Arthur asked me to move in with him,” Ariadne told Mal over a glass of red wine.

Mal shrieked, gaining a few stares from people in the bar, “That’s fantastic! About time.”

“Really, it’s barely been a year. 

“No, it’s good. It means he’s committed to you. He wants you in his life in every way.”

“Okay, when you put it like that. I think I’m just very, very happy. Like I keep waiting for someone to tap me on the shoulder and say ‘Sorry Ariadne, this isn’t your life, this was meant for someone else instead so we need you to leave.’”

“Oh, Ariadne,” Mal exclaimed, “you shouldn’t think like that. You deserve everything you have. Your job, your boyfriend, your friends.” She pointed at herself. “Just enjoy it.”

“Thanks,” Ariadne grinned.

“Dom and I are on the outs again,” Mal sighed.

Ariadne’s rule to herself was that if Mal brought up Dom she’d talk to her about it, but she wouldn’t bring the subject up herself.

“What’s happened?” Ariadne asks, already knowing the answer.

“Last week he promised he’d talk to his wife over the weekend. On Friday evening he’d packed his bags and said he was going to sit down and talk to her when she got in. Then he rings me Sunday so say he’s had time to think about it and he’s not ready yet. He can’t leave his kids while they’re still young. The usual.”

“Do you think he’ll ever leave her? He’s promised you so many times. I hate seeing you get hurt.”

“I’m in love with him, Ari. I’ll wait as long as my heart can take it.”

Ariadne sighed and reached her hand across the table to grasp Mal’s.

“I just worry about you. I hate seeing how much he affects you, how much he can make your mood change. One minute you’re happy and in love and the next you’re crying over the phone because he’s cancelled on your plans to be with his family.”

“I know, Ari, I know.”

“Are you still taking the anti-depressants the doctor prescribed you?”

“Yes,” Mal admitted, “although some days it doesn’t feel like they’re doing anything.”

“You know it can take a while before you start to feel the effects?”

“I know, I’m just so tired of feeling this way. Thanks again for not saying anything about the pills to Arthur or HR. I know the agency needs to know any medication I’m on, but I just can’t face everyone knowing.”

“I know, but you need to tell them soon, Mal. It’s been a month and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this from Arthur, especially now we’ll be living together.”

“I promise. Just let me get through this week, once Dom and I are back together I’ll go to HR. I promise.”

Ariadne looked into her eyes and believed her.

 

*

 

Nine days later, in the last row of a Boeing 757 at 35,000 feet, Mallory Miles pulled out her service pistol and shot herself. The plane, a non-stop LA to Atlanta, diverted immediately to Dallas, while the flight crew tried to calm screaming passengers.

It made international news, and the picture of the 757 wrapped in police tape stayed in the newspapers for two weeks. In every TSA office in the United States, there was an absolute uproar. Especially in San Diego.

Ariadne had been on an overnight return from O’Hare when she got a message from Arthur and knew instantly something was wrong.

 

_Wed 3/5_

_TSA Communication System_

_Arthur: Please call me ASAP once you land._

 

The second the plane landed, Ariadne was on the phone to Arthur.

Hearing the words from Arthur made her felt like her lungs had stopped working and she’d forgotten how to breath. But part of her felt like she knew something like this was coming.

But it was Mal. Mal was overly dramatic sometimes of course, sensitive, and completely subject to her heart. But she was also strong and smart and fierce and could tear a man apart with a single sentence. How could she have become someone...someone who got on a plane with the intention of ending her life. Who sat there and knew that she had people who cared about her—friends, colleagues, family, Dom—and decided that it wasn’t enough.

That she wasn’t enough.

Ariadne felt the dampness on her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. She sank down into her seat and only remembered where she was when one of the flight attendants tapped her on the shoulder and asked if she was okay. She realized the passengers seated in the middle and window seat must have climbed over her to get out but found she didn’t care.

“Sorry,” she stuttered. “I’ve just had some very bad news. I—sorry.”

The journey back to Arthur’s apartment (home, now, she corrected herself) was a blur until she finally wrapped herself in Arthur’s arms and sobbed violently. Arthur’s tears blended with her own.

 

*

 

Many hours later, early in the morning when neither of them could manage another attempt at sleep, Arthur asked her the very last question she wanted to hear.

“Did you have any idea something like this would happen? Was she depressed?”

Ariadne's hesitation was enough of an answer for Arthur to sit upright and look at her properly.

“Ariadne?”

She sighed and sat up facing Arthur. “You know she and Dom had an on/off thing?”

Arthur levelled her with a gaze. “I think most of the office knew.”

Ariadne swallowed and continued on. “I met her for drinks, to tell her about us moving in together. She mentioned Dom had ended things again.”

“That’s hardly new,” Arthur commented.

“I know, but it’s…” She didn’t quite know how to finish the sentence.

“Ari?”

“Mal’s on anti-depressants. I mean—she was. For about a month now.”

Arthur leapt off the bed, furious. “Ari!”

“I know, Arthur, I’m sorry. It wasn’t my secret to tell. I told her, I begged her to tell HR. She knew she had to disclose that information, but she was just so worried for Dom, what everyone would think of her.”

“Do you know how much trouble you’re in. How much trouble our office is going to be in?”

“I’m sorry! She said the only thing worse than Dom not wanting her was everyone else knowing it as well. She didn’t want anyone to know she was unhappy.”

“Well, shooting herself in the face certainly accomplished that!”

“Arthur!” Ariadne yelled. “That was completely out of line.”

Arthur rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes. “Ari,” he said, and for the first time Ariadne noticed how utterly exhausted he looked. “We are all hanging on to our jobs and this office by a very loose thread as it is. This is going to be the end of it. They’ll shut us down and relocate everyone.”

“Arthur, what are you talking about?”

Arthur sighed. “When you started, Dom gave you the speech about us being a regional office, yes?”

“Yes.” She remembered him saying that, but nothing significant had ever stood out about it.

“All regional offices report to a Field Office.”

“Do you mean D.C?” She knew Arthur and several others reported in there.

“No, each regional office reports to a Field Office, and each Field Office reports to the Head Office. Our Field Office is LA. Within a few months after 9/11, 26 new regional offices were set up. There’s been talk recently about the need for them all. Including San Diego, given that LA is such a short distance away. It’s been in the rumor mill for a while. And I think if anything was going to make their final decision, it’s this.”

“They’re going to shut us down? Send us all somewhere else?” Ariadne was momently distracted from everything with Mal at the thought of not seeing her colleagues or bosses again, of her not sitting in her cubicle again, which was a second home to her, which was where she had met Arthur, it all being gone.

“Anyone in higher management will get to put forward location requests. For FAMs, they’ll relocate most to LA. Others they’ll spread out to other smaller regional offices.”

Ariadne took a few deep breaths before finally asking, “And what location will you request?”

“I don’t know,” Arthur answered sounding honest.

“What does it depend on?” Ariadne asked, but she thought she already knew the answer.

“Dom.”

Ariadne sucked in a breath. “Is he more important to you than me?”

“I’ve known him since I was fifteen. He’s family to me. I’ve spent most of today with him, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.”

“And if I get assigned to LA and he goes somewhere else?”

And then Arthur said the five words she didn’t want to hear.

“I would go with him.”

“And what about me. What am I supposed to do while you’re off with Dom sorting his life out? Sit around in LA waiting for you?”

“I don’t know. I need to see what happens with Dom. Once things are settled we can talk.”

“I really mean that little, do I?”

“No, Ari. I just – I can’t think right now. All I know is that Dom is like my brother. I need to help him get through this. He’s lost Mal, and his wife and kids in one day.”

“And I’ve lost a friend. And so have you.”

“I’m sorry. Dom’s staying in a hotel for a few days while he figures out what to do, and I said I’d go with him. I’ll give you a call once we’ve sorted out a plan.”

All of a sudden it hit her. This was it, the moment she’d been thinking about. Someone tapping on her shoulder and telling her this life wasn’t meant for her. It felt like her breath had been knocked out of her and she sank down onto the bed.

“Sure. Okay,” she said numbly.

Arthur looked unsure but also like he didn’t want to start a fight again. He picked up his bag and walked out the door.

Quietly, as tears ran down her cheeks, she packed her suitcase. A suitcase she’d only unpacked two weeks ago when she had moved in.  

She left her apartment keys on the kitchen table when she went. And when Arthur tried to call her a few days later, she turned her phone off.

 

*

 

_May 2006_

 

Ariadne’s flight five-hour flight from LA to Washington, DC, was delayed by over an hour, so by the time she touched down she only had enough time to stop by her new office to get her meeting schedule for the week before going back to her hotel to crash. Tomorrow would be her first day as Supervisory Federal Air Marshal.

In her new position, she would be in charge of all the FAMs in the DC office. Her promotion also meant more time in the office and a lot less time in the air, but after three years of red-eye flights and time zone changes and jet lag, she was quite looking forward to it.

The next morning, Ariadne had a meeting all the Heads of Departments at 9 a.m., including the Special Agent in Charge, the Deputy Special Agent in Charge, the Operations Director, and the Head of Federal Security.

When she opened the door to the meeting room she found herself in a room with Arthur for the first time in two years.

Ariadne took her seat as the meeting started, and everyone introduced themselves.

Arthur was no longer an OPS Officer and introduced himself as Operations Director. She felt a swell of pride for his promotion to the role; it was an incredibly important position that oversaw coordination of every single domestic mission flight organized by TSA.

She didn’t feel like she could concentrate or breathe properly, so she wrote furious notes, hoping that they would make sense later.

When the meeting finished and everyone was rising from their seats, Arthur spoke up.

“Ariadne, could I have a world with you in my office?”

Not trusting her words, she nodded and followed him down the corridor and into a large office.

She studied him properly for the first time, as she’d tried to avoid eye contact during the meeting. He didn’t look much different. His hair was a little shorter and he was wearing a grey waistcoat that fit tightly around his chest, which had filled out with muscle in the past few years. She preferred his hair a little longer, long enough to run her fingers through, but his slightly bigger frame suited him.

“Sit down, please,” he said gesturing to a seat opposite his desk.

She had often wondered what it would feel like to see Arthur again. For the first year she’d been angry. Fuming. But with therapy and time, it had calmed down to a simmer. It still hurt they’d he’d left her, that he’d not chosen her.

But then during one session, her therapist had asked, if her brother had been in trouble and wanted her to go to Zurich, and Arthur had asked her to stay, what would she have done? She’d never been able to answer that truthfully out loud, but in her heart she wasn’t sure she would have picked Arthur.

“How are you?” she asked, more out of a want to have something to say than a need to know the answer.

“I’m okay. I moved to New York with Dom for a bit after...It took most of last year for Dom to get things worked out, but he’s now back in LA and has his kids one weekend a month. It’s not much yet, but he says it’s a starting point. I moved here a few months ago, once Dom started to get plans into place for moving back.”

Ariadne hadn’t expected him to come right out with everything, so she said eloquently, “Oh.”  

“I’m sorry, Ari. I am so sorry for everything.” Arthur implored, reaching out for her hand, which she let him take. “I made such a mess of things.”

“It wasn’t an easy situation,” she allowed.

“But if I could do it again,” he started.

“Would you do anything differently?”

“I still would have gone with Dom,” Arthur replied honestly. “But I would have begged you to come with me. I would have thrown you over my shoulder and carried you onto the plane with me.”

“If you had asked, I would have. All you needed was to say the words.” She’d never said it out loud to her friends but she would have. If Arthur had asked her she would have gone anywhere with him.

“Will you give me another chance?”

His eyes were earnest and hopeful and she knew immediately that she could forgive him.

She stood up and walked around to the other side of the desk, Arthur’s eyes on her the entire time. When she reached him, she pulled him up out of his chair and kissed him with all the emotions she’d felt over the past four years: the love, the heartbreak, the longing, and finally, hope.

“Yes.”

 


End file.
